


Staying

by neaf



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Body Paint, Established Relationship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neaf/pseuds/neaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Body paint, music, summer heat and all that comes with it. Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/755673">Stay</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staying

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack for this piece is _Yellow Light_ by Remy Zero and _Higher Devotion_ by Jimmy Eat World.

The lazy, warm light of the afternoon faded into foggy darkness and settled in a haze over the festival. Painted people wandered in flickers of motion across the grass like spectres and ghosts – barely visible but always caught in peripheral vision. Chris watched them appear and disappear in and out of the treeline through the opening of the tent, blinking carefully and squinting to try and catch a familiar face.  
  
Slowly a glow descended as lanterns were lit, leading back like a multicoloured runway from the beacon of the stage. Music filtered through the thick, warm night air and he could feel the beat in the tremor of the grass beneath him.  
  
Darren loped over, grinning brightly and shimmering in the pink light cast from the lantern he was waving around. “Alright, alright!” he announced cheerily, ducking through the entryway. “Now things are reaaally getting going.”  
  
Chris lifted his brow, smiling softly.   
  
“Up!” Darren commanded, leaning over and gripping him by the arm.  
  
Chris rolled his eyes, but complied. “Where are we going?”  
  
“Nowhere, yet,” Darren passed him the lantern. “I need your help.”  
  
“With wh- WHOA,” Chris’s eyes blew wide as Darren stripped his shirt off giddily, throwing it alongside their bags.  
  
Chris smiled nervously, eyes flickering back and forth. “Wh- what are you doing?”  
  
Darren knelt and rummaged in this bag for a moment, completely oblivious, before he finally stood. Blinking, Chris inspected the bright palette in his hands. “Body paint?”  
  
Darren nodded, still grinning like a five year old and bouncing his knees. “Fuck yeah,” he enthused. “You can’t have a real festival experience at Dragonfly without body paint, trust me.”  
  
“I’ll take your word for it,” Chris answered. “S… So…” (he reminded himself to look at Darren’s face) “You want me to – paint. You.”  
  
“You’re so eloquent when you’re nervous,” Darren said teasingly, darkening his gaze for emphasis and posing bashfully.  
  
Chris glared.  
  
“Yes,” Darren confirmed with a smile. “I need your help. You can reach places I can’t.”   
  
Chris swallowed. “You’re doing this on purpose now,” he mumbled under his breath.  
  
“Doing what?” Darren asked innocently.  
  
“Nothing,” Chris waved a hand. “Fine, fine.” He reached up to hang the lantern from the dangling tent hook.  
  
“Good idea,” Darren nodded at the lantern. “This way I can do you.”  
  
Chris nearly choked.  
  
“You know,” Darren shrugged, a tiny smile playing at the side of his mouth. “Your paint.”  
  
“My what?”  
  
“Shirt off,” Darren commanded, gesturing with a finger before he knelt and tore the seal off the palette.  
  
“Oh, no no no no,” Chris shook his head. “Shirt stays on. You’ve seen me naked, without a shirt I look like a moon with arms and legs.”  
  
Darren made a dismissive noise. “You’ll love it. It’s part of the experience.”  
  
Chris narrowed his eyes, deliberating. His gaze wandered over to the open flap of the tent and the crowds surging near the stage, clearer now in the rainbow glow of the lanterns. So many people dancing, laughing and running around – women with streamers tied in their hair, men with glow bracelets and lightwands, all sparkling with glitter and paint under the burning hues of the night.  
  
He sighed gently. His spiked, wayward hair and sunglasses, and the simple jeans-and-t-shirt combination he’d chosen for the day event had provided him with a kind of anonymity. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t been recognized yet. Or if he had, nobody had said anything. There was something altogether freeing about that, and he’d felt that surge of worry when he’d taken the sunglasses off. The fear that it would all end far too quickly.  
  
Still, nothing had happened. Nobody had disturbed them, nobody had made a fuss. But underneath, he kept waiting for the carriage to turn back into a pumpkin at any moment.  
  
He jolted slightly when he came out of his daze and realised Darren had moved in closer, fingers playing at the hem of his shirt. “You know,” Darren said lowly. “I would suggest that body and face paint can only help the mastery of disguise, in this case.”  
  
With a laugh, Chris uncoiled his arms from his chest. “Get out of my head.”  
  
Darren smiled at him, letting go of his shirt.   
  
Chris sighed. “Fine, god,” he said, and peeled his shirt off quickly before he could change his mind.  
  
The smile on Daren’s face split into a broad grin, and he rubbed his hands together. “Now we’re talkin! Excellent, okay, colours,”  
  
“Whatever works,” Chris said quickly.  
  
“Same goes for me,” Darren agreed, resting the palette on a fold out table.  
  
Chris breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment and wondering why his skin was prickling and thrumming with a strange sensation. The air was warm, and the music was low and blending in with the chorus of the crowd, but there was still something strange in the way the air felt on his bare skin.  
  
He shook it off, focusing instead on the paints as Darren shifted and turned to face him. He didn’t notice Darren’s eyes trailing down his body, or the way his mouth fell open slightly when he got to Chris’s hipbones.  
  
Chris chose the colours carefully, and dipped two long fingers into the light blue before smearing them in a hesitant line across Darren’s collarbone, feeling warm skin shift beneath his fingertips. A shiver shot down his spine, but he refused to look up, focusing instead on the feel of the smooth paint between his fingers and the way the colour seemed brighter still when painted on skin.  
  
The song changed, and he fought a gasp as Darren’s thumb brushed over his side. The paint wasn’t cold, but the wet sensation as Darren dragged his hand roughly up Chris’s belly still sent shocks up his spine. He tried to stay still, and focus on what he was doing as best he could, blending yellows and pinks over the blue into a rainbow of swirls and smudges that would have looked almost tribal if they weren’t painted in shades of My Little Pony.  
  
They worked silently, fingers pressing into sweat-damp skin under the pink lantern light and working patterns of colour up every inch of each other. The paint was drying quickly enough that even brushing and bumping arms as they worked wasn’t making too much of a mess. Finally, Darren waved a hand at him. “Turn around.”  
  
Chris lifted his brow, wiping his fingers off on the already paint-stained table. “Huh?”  
  
“I need to get your back,” Darren insisted, and Chris let himself be spun around.  
  
He felt two flat hands press against his spine, flaring out towards his shoulders and cupping his shoulder blades roughly. Chris’s eyes slammed shut as Darren’s fingers worked down his body, and he wondered to himself about the initial touch – the deliberate press of both hands, how he felt it like a shock deep into his ribcage, and how it would look on his skin. _Like handprint wings_ , he realised, and chuckled to himself.  
  
He felt Darren move behind him, bouncing slightly to the beat in the distance as he finished up.  
  
“O-kay,” he said, satisfied. “Done! You’re one of us now, night warrior.”  
  
Chris cocked an eyebrow at him as he turned back around. “Night warrior?”  
  
Darren pointed to Chris’s chest, and he glanced down at himself for the first time. The work was messy, but beautiful all the same. Hues of dark blue, purple and silver in smears and blended lines trailed up his torso, with cuffs painted around each bicep. _When did he do that?_  
  
Chris nodded appreciatively. “Clearly, you’ve done this before.”  
  
“You bet your moon with arms and legs I have,” Darren grinned.  
  
“Ha, ha,” Chris said. “Alright, let me finish your back.”  
  
“Oh, no, wait,” Darren held up both hands, peering at Chris strangely. “One more thing before you do.”  
  
Chris stared at him, waiting for clarification, but Darren simply gathered more silver paint on his fingertips and reached up. “Now,” he said eyes locking on Chris’s face with an odd intensity. “Hold very still.”  
  
Holding his breath, Chris felt Darren’s hands slide over his face and cup his jaw, thumbs pressing very gently across his forehead and sliding down his cheekbones. The touch was so light Chris tried not to tremble as wet fingers ghosted over his skin, and Darren’s eyes fixed on him darkly under the lantern light.  
  
With a sharp, static twang a new song struck the air, drumbeats pounding a rhythm and shaking the ground beneath them. Chris’s lungs screamed and reminded him of the value of oxygen, and he huffed a sharp breath as carefully as he could.  
  
Darren smiled softly at the sudden sound, hands still cradling Chris’s face. “You okay?”  
  
Chris wanted to nod but couldn’t. He realised he’d forgotten how to blink at some point. “Uhuh.”  
  
His body twitched with nervous tension, and that knowing ache was pooling low in his belly, making him shiver. He felt his skin prickle, and without thinking gripped at Darren’s hips to keep his balance.  
  
Darren shifted in closer at the contact, his body reacting on instinct, eyes dropping to Chris’s mouth. Chris could feel the heat under his hands, the tremble that went through Darren at that moment, and realised he wasn’t the only one holding his breath.  
  
A thrill shot through him, and his eyes burned wickedly as he moved to the beat, sliding his leg between Darren’s thighs.   
  
“Nngh, Chris,” Darren’s eyes fluttered shut, and his hands dropped, grappling at Chris’s shoulders.   
  
A smile curled at the edge of Chris’s mouth as he rolled his hips forward to the weight of the chorus. They shifted together in the dim light, riding on the beat of the song with rocking hips and sliding painted skin on skin. Darren’s hands clutched at Chris’s arms, his sides and finally his hips, pulling him in tighter.   
  
After what felt like an eternity of touch and rolling friction Darren tipped his head up quickly, finding Chris’s mouth and pressing a warm hand against his face once more. The kiss was frantic and desperate, and Chris could feel Darren pushing against him. His hands found Darren’s hips, and he dug fingers into denim, kissing him back with everything he had.  
  
They stumbled awkwardly, bodies writhing together and hands exploring skin in needy strokes as the song played out and the silence took over.   
  
“We should,” Chris managed through harsh breaths as he pulled away. “I mean, we should,” he tried to find the words.   
  
Darren nodded, eyes narrowing. “Don’t wanna mess up the paint?”  
  
“There isn’t a word right now that can accurately convey just how much I _don’t care_ about paint,” Chris growled, regaining his breath. His hands slid down Darren’s sides in one long, deliberate motion and found the curve of his ass, cupping him roughly and pulling him back in. The kiss was hard, messy and possessive this time, and Chris sucked Darren’s lower lip into his mouth before he pulled away again.   
  
“What I was going to say,” he said slowly, “is that we should zip the tent.”  
  
“Oh,” Darren breathed, eyes wide. “Right, yes. Shit. Fuck.” He turned quickly, finding the pull cord at the top of the open tent flap and zipping around, closing them off from prying eyes.  
  
Chris watched him move, watched the way his skin shifted over muscle across his back. He was already hard and aching in his jeans, and watching Darren bend over to secure the tent peg through the zip right now was really not helping.  
  
“So,” Darren wheeled around, closing the gap between them. “I have a confession to make.”  
  
Chris’s gaze was locked on Darren’s collarbones, glistening with sweat in the pink hues from the lantern. “Mm?”  
  
“I _was_ doing it on purpose,” Darren admitted with a breathless smile.  
  
“I know,” Chris replied, fingers sliding over Darren’s belly and up the pattern on his chest.  
  
“One more confession,” Darren said slowly, eyes closed and voice cracking slightly as Chris’s hands moved over him.   
  
A new song began in the distance – a screeching call into the night and a scale of notes that sent electric sparks down every inch of his body. “What’s that?” he asked carefully.  
  
“I really,” Darren’s tongue licked absently at his lower lip, breath ghosting warmly over Chris’s mouth. “ _Really_ need you to fuck me soon, please.”  
  
Chris’s arms shot up, and he fisted handfuls of curls as their mouths clashed together again violently, bodies swaying with the force of it. Darren’s hands slid down into Chris’s jeans, exploring the angles and curves of him desperately as they pushed against each other and rocked back into the table, knocking it over. The lantern swayed above them from the pull on the tent canvas, and light washed back and forth as they twisted and pressed against every available surface until they finally found the ground.   
  
Frantically kicking off his shoes and socks, Chris rolled over and found Darren had done the same. They met again as Chris climbed on top of him and settled down between his thighs, mouth dipping to suck at his jaw and his pulse. Darren moaned quietly, his hips jerking up, and Chris could feel the length of him pressing through his jeans. Smiling against the skin of his throat, Chris pushed his hand down Darren’s chest, brushing over a nipple and scratching nails over his belly to undo his jeans. The noises coming from Darren sent sharp, perfect thrills down Chris’s body, and he wanted as many as he could get.  
  
He sucked harder on his pulse, tongue sweeping over skin, and Darren moaned loudly this time as his head tipped back. The ache of being confined by his jeans was almost unbearable at this point, and Chris lifted himself away from a moment to try and undo them. Darren’s hands replaced his quickly, fingers working awkwardly over the button and zip, and Chris felt the fabric drag roughly over his cock as Darren pushed it down. He whimpered at the release, burying his head in Darren’s neck for a moment and rolling to the side so he could regain his breath, and Darren could shimmy out of his own jeans.  
  
Kicking his pants across the tent, Chris swayed his attention back to the warm, painted body beside him. “I don’t have – we need-”  
  
“In my bag,” Darren finished, leaning in to kiss him quickly before his hands reached over and scrambled at the duffel.   
  
“Wow, you’re,” Chris raised his brow. “You were really doing it on purpose, weren’t you?”  
  
“I’m like a boyscout, I’m always prepared,” Darren laughed, rolling onto his back again once he’d found what he needed.  
  
“Mmm-hmm,” Chris narrowed his eyes, tracing fingers lightly over the inside of Darren’s thigh and watching him tremble and stutter over words.  
  
“Chris. _Fuck._ ”  
  
“That’s the plan,” Chris quipped as he dragged a thumb roughly over Darren’s hipbone, swiping away the paint so he could twist across and suck on it wetly. Darren growled, and his hands dropped out of his control as Chris grazed his teeth over skin, and moved lower, pressing kisses to the insides of his thighs.   
  
“Fuck, please,” Darren whimpered. “Chris, I need to.”  
  
With a dirty smile, Chris swiped his tongue lightly over the head of Darren’s cock, and listened for the deep, broken noises he made. After a moment he shifted up, stroking himself absently and smacking lightly at Darren’s thigh. “Roll over,”  
  
Darren nodded, eyes shut and breaths coming far too quickly as he moved over on the blanket. Chris found where Darren had dropped the small bottle of lube. _Travel size lube, Darren. Really?_  
  
Smiling to himself, Chris wet his fingers quickly and lay down, pushing the dry heel of his hand across Darren’s lower back. “Look at me,” he said, lowering his head to the blanket.  
  
Darren shifted, turning his head and resting again, eyes half-lidded and dark as Chris slid his fingers down and circled the tight ring of muscle gently. Darren gasped, his eyes shooting wide for a moment as Chris pressed a finger inside. He let out a muffled groan and his eyes fluttered closed as Chris worked carefully and slowly.  
  
“Hey, hey,” Chris lent in and kissed him softly. “Open your eyes.”  
  
Darren complied, his mouth open and drawing in quick breaths.   
  
“You’re alright?”  
  
Darren nodded, licking at his lips. “Yes, god, _Chris_. I just.”  
  
“It’s new, I know,” Chris smiled, and kissed him again.   
  
He watched Darren’s face with wonder as he worked a second finger inside, stretching him gently and staring at the stunning lines of his features. The way his breath fell away, the sweep of his lashes and the dark, hazy look in his eyes all made Chris shudder with need.   
  
After a third finger, Darren was almost panting. “Chris, please, just – _fuck me._ ”  
  
Chris bit his lip, sliding his fingers back and forth still. “It’s going to feel different,” he said. “More – full. And it’ll-”  
  
“I know,” Darren breathed. “Just – please.”  
  
With a nod, Chris lifted himself up onto his knees and stroked himself with his wet hand, his body thrumming with the sensation and the relief at being touched at last. After a moment of enjoying it, he pressed a palm to Darren’s back, feeling the shift as Darren raised himself to his knees in front of him.  
  
Chris found the bottle again, preparing himself quickly. He dropped a kiss onto Darren’s shoulder, and braced his hips with his hands as he moved their bodies together and slowly pushed inside. Darren’s breath caught and he swayed on his knees, hands grasping at Chris’s thighs blindly for purchase while they moved together gradually. As the push became easier with each motion, Chris rocked forward, hands sweeping across Darren’s chest while his mouth found the curve of his neck.  
  
Darren moaned softly, broken noises falling from him with every sway as the heat overwhelmed them both and their skin beaded with sweat under the weight of the warm air. Chris’s hips rolled smoothly, finding a rhythm, and he pushed his fingers through the patterns that his blue and purple paint had left on Darren’s back.  
  
Chris fucked him slowly, at first, letting their bodies revel in the sensation. The hot, tight heat around him was almost too much, and he felt a flood of relief when Darren’s hips pressed back eagerly and a loud moan slipped from him. Chris’s eyes fluttered closed at the sound, and he thrust up roughly, tipping Darren forward onto his hands and finding a new pace.  
  
He took his time, but kept his rhythm, moving deep and pulling back over and over while his hands stroked and explored all of Darren’s back. Every sound that Darren made only brought him closer, until finally he felt himself curl forward, draping his body over the man beneath him as he came hard in broken, stuttering breaths.  
  
The string of keening, desperate noises coming from below him let him know that Darren had followed soon after, and trembling they collapsed together onto their sides on the blanket.  
  
Breathless and light-headed in the aftershocks of his orgasm, Chris pulled away, slipping gently out of him and falling onto his back to catch his breath.  
  
“Fuck,” Darren uttered, his eyes still closed as his chest rose and fell rapidly. “That was. _Fuck._ ”  
  
Chris chuckled, and curled his body up again, resting a chin on Darren’s shoulder. “So I hear,” he said dryly.  
  
Darren let out a breathy laugh and glanced up at him, eyes shining. “I’m deaf,” Darren said simply. “You fucked the sound right out of me.”  
  
“I had a feeling I might,” Chris smiled fondly, and kissed the unpainted skin of Darren’s neck.   
  
“And all I had to do is take my shirt off this time,” Darren said.  
  
“From memory,” Chris reminded him, “that’s all you had to do the first time.”  
  
“Point,” Darren narrowed his eyes. “What if I just get rid of all my shirts, that would solve a lot of problems.”  
  
“Are we going to keep doing this?” Chris asked between kisses, mouth trailing over Darren’s earlobe.  
  
Darren sighed contentedly. “God, yes.”  
  
“Then next time,” Chris lifted himself, and let Darren turn his head to look directly at him. “Don’t bring travel sized lube.”  
  
With a laugh, Darren’s head tipped back. “Deal.”  
  
Chris watched him for awhile, the broad grin, tea-stained eyes and mess of curls that had always been the most beautiful things he’d ever seen on one person looked even more so now. Somehow, messy and sleepy beneath him, Darren still managed to take his breath away.  
  
“Where did you go?” Darren asked suddenly, eyes bright and curious at the distant look on Chris’s face.  
  
Chris smiled, and settled their bodies together comfortably so he could rest his head on Darren’s shoulder again.   
  
“Nowhere,” he replied.   
  
“I’m staying right here.”


End file.
